Telluride Colorado

We got up one morning and decided to head to a little town called Telluride. I’d never even heard of it before, but I’m so glad we went. The drive there was honestly one of the most beautiful I’ve ever done in my life — winding mountain roads, snow on the peaks, pine trees lining the edges, and these tiny towns tucked in like they’d been there forever. I was hanging out the window trying to film everything, and my phone was practically full by the time we got there. I didn’t know where to look. It was that kind of good.

When we arrived, the main street was basically empty — quiet in the best kind of way. The road runs straight toward this massive snow-covered mountain, and it kind of stops you in your tracks. It felt like the whole town had been built just for that view. We wandered slowly, ducked into a few little stores, and then made our way right to the end of the road where the mountain starts. I took a photo there that I knew straight away I’d draw when I got back home to Australia.

We found a food van for lunch and ordered soup, then sat on a park bench eating with our jackets zipped up, just looking back down the main street. It was cold, still, and absolutely beautiful. The kind of quiet that makes you want to stay longer than you planned.

We didn’t have time to paint there, but I left with a full heart and a phone full of memories. It was one of those places that surprised me, the kind that sneaks in and stays with you. We drove back to Durango a different way, slowly, already thinking about what was coming next — packing the van and heading for Monument Valley.